Page 23 of Third Time Lucky

‘He was sample number three, darling,’ she explains, her voice low.

No freaking way.

‘He was number three?’ I repeat, trying to wrap my head around the surreal situation unfolding before me.

Mitzi nods solemnly. ‘Yes. It would seem fate may be trying to tell you something,’ she suggests, leaving me in the spot where my feet feel locked to the floor as she takes a seat at the kitchen island.

‘Fate?’ I mumble, not believing in its supposed ‘goodness’ for even a second. It’s screwed me over one too many times.

Tension fills the room, suffocating us both as we stand there, lost in a moment suspended between the past and present.

‘Hey, Luce,’ he says softly. His voice breaks through the tension like shattering glass.

I take a deep breath, attempting to steady my racing heart. ‘Hi, Ash.’

7

ASHER

‘Before you think I set this up, let me explain. I honestly didn’t realize this job was for Mitzi until I got here today. If it’s uncomfortable for you, I can leave…’ I say, fidgeting nervously with the pan in my hand after nearly dropping it on the gas stove that I’m not sure has ever been used, as she enters the room.

‘No,’ she forces out. ‘Don’t go.’

‘Don’t go?’ I ask, as if I heard her wrong.

Mitzi and I exchanged words as we both realized my connection to Lucy when I got here. I couldn’t predict how my presence would affect her, but Mitzi assured me it would be positive – after her initial shock, that is. And now, as she stands there, speaking in short sentences with confusion written all over her face, I can’t help but wonder how this may unfold.

Despite mentally preparing myself, her presence catches me off guard. She looks nothing like the glamorous woman I saw in Vegas – somehow, she’s even more stunning, casually dressed in leggings and a hoodie, her damp hair is tucked behind her ears, which are adorned with multiple silver earrings. Not a stitch of makeup is on her face, and the slight freckling over her nose that I remember from our youth, catches my attention. I always thought her freckles were adorable, but as a teen she was pretty insistent on finding makeup that had ‘full freckle coverage’ – her words. Today, her skin glows like it’s made of glitter, and half a shocked smile sits crookedly on her pretty face. She’s absolutely having an out-of-body experience at this moment.

‘I want you to stay,’ she says, clearly unsure of herself.

I set the pan down on the stove, the sizzling sound fading into the background as I turn to face her. Her eyes search mine like they’re hunting for a hint or clue in my expression – but there are only a couple of things going through my head right now.

One – she’s more beautiful than I remember. And two – she’s OK after Vegas. Thank God.

The smile on my face is probably ridiculous. ‘OK. I’ll stay then,’ I say, taking a step closer, closing the distance between us. ‘But you, sit,’ I say, guiding her to the barstools.

She allows me to help her into her seat but remains silent, fixing her gaze on me for what feels like an eternity before speaking.

‘I, uh— I didn’t realize you were a chef?’ she asks the statement as a question – like maybe she’d forgotten.

‘I mentioned it briefly in Vegas,’ I reply.

Her eyes go wide.

Shit. Why did I say that?! Maybe she’ll punch me for reminding her. I can only imagine the memories it’ll trigger.

‘But, uh— I’m sure you don’t want to talk about that shitshow. Sorry, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. Worst trip, ever, by the way.’

I didn’t play in the blackjack tournament that weekend. Aaron and I just drank, for about twenty-four hours straight. Until she and what had happened wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. On the plus side, I didn’t get arrested that time.

‘Understatement of the year…’ she mumbles as her cheeks pink slightly.

Thick silence falls over the room as I continue to cook. Occasionally, as I caramelize the onions, I glance in her direction, and each time, she’s got her eyes on me, but I’m not sure she’s seeing me with whatever is going through her head. She’s reeling, it shows all over her face and I might be the one to blame.

‘Should this be weird?’ I ask.

Her eyes unglaze with a slight shake of her head. ‘Um… doyoufeel weird?’